Zaid nodded, deeply troubled. “This anarchy has infected all of Arabia. Such people will destroy the world,” he said, and they knew he was speaking about more than Bandar. A savage dispute was raging in the ulama as to whether King Saud should be deposed and replaced by Prince Faisal.

After some discussion, they decided to send Nick and Youssef on a mission to the Awazim and Rualla tribes, so that all of the noble northern tribes would be in agreement over whom to support for king.

“It is best to send you two away for awhile. Then too, it may be your last chance to cross the Nefud by camel. The old ways are dying. Soon they will pave the sands with kafir roads and the Bedu will cross the desert in Tooyooti trucks from Yapan,” Zaid said with some bitterness.

“Is there no way to swallow the western machines without choking?” Youssef asked, his voice desperate. The attempt to straddle two divergent cultures was splitting them apart in ways they could not understand.

Zaid gently tapped his son’s knee. He knew the boy’s heart had been shattered by the loss of the woman. But wasn’t their whole world being ripped apart? The little Scorpion more than any of them, he thought. Time and again he had seen the young man torn by some memory of his childhood, jogged by an encounter with something western. But what could they do? Oil had brought the entire world to their hearth.

“When a houbara is struck by a falcon and lies dying in the sand, you can see the colors of its feathers fade and dull. The beauty is gone. But if you don’t kill and eat the bird, how are you to live?” Zaid asked.

Riyadh

Riyadh

SNAKE-LIKE, THE MUSCLES of the dancer’s belly began to ripple down from her ribcage to the gold-tasseled skirt which barely clung to her quivering pelvis. As the sinuous rhythm of the tambor drum increased, her hips began to move in a graceful simulation of coitus. Sweat glistened on her skin as she thrust her soft young body against her invisible lover. Suddenly, she stamped her bare feet and stood stock-still in the center of the spotlight. The darkness around her was alive, filled with eyes and the sound of breathing.

With a little cry, she began to whip her head back and forth, sending her long black hair flying. She stretched her arms to embrace the smoky light. As the drum went wild, she stiffened and every muscle in her lower body began to tremble in a paroxysm of desire. In a crescendo of drums she thrust her pelvis in a savage series of shudders and groans, then head bowed she sank to the floor, utterly spent.